


Eddie, My First and Last Love

by heylittleangel



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Emotional Hurt, I'm basing mostly on the movies, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of Hurt, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not A Happy Ending, Richie finally admits his feelings, Richie's so in love, Sadly, Spoilers for Chapter 2, Swearing, You can't change my mind, a few years late but he does, and Eddie is too, and I came up with most of them, and I mean very hard, because it's been years since I've read the book, cause it's Richie, it's not a fix-it fic, my poor baby, obviously, same with Ben/Bev, some memories from Richie, suffering!Richie, the memories are in chronological order, there's some Bill/Stan if you squint hard enough, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-25 23:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20920676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylittleangel/pseuds/heylittleangel
Summary: 5 times Richie didn’t say I love you—or something close to it—and the one time he did.





	1. One fucking long night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, people! So, this is the first time I write for anything other than Supernatural and I'm actually very excited. I've read the book five years ago and I'm still in love with it—just as I am with the movies. Richie and Eddie deserved better (they all did, tbh), but I wanted to do something about how Richie always loved Eddie, even when he didn't know. I hope you guys like it and that I managed to do justice to these two beautiful people. 
> 
> I'll update every three days (hopefully) and I'll always post on tumblr when I do, so, if you wanna know, just follow me there or let me know you wanna be tagged. ;)
> 
> Lastly, I wanna thank [ babybluecas ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybluecas) for listening to me talk about this and Reddie and It endlessly. You're an angel sent from heaven. ❤
> 
> Alright, I'll let you go read now!

Richie stared at the watch on his nightstand, waiting for it to get to midnight. He was anxious to get out of the house soon and the time didn’t seem to pass fast enough. Sure, he could go out then but he would have to wait outside Eddie’s window for a while yet and he would rather not; there were too many chances that someone or Ms. K would see him there, and it was too fucking cold to be outside.

Without much else to do, he sat on the floor by his bed and dragged his bag towards him. Opening it, he went through everything once again to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything—checking it for the fifth time in less than an hour. He had comic books, the ones that he liked and the ones that Eddie liked; he had some snacks—everything that Eddie was surely going to say that it was going to give Richie a heart attack one day, but also some that Eddie liked; and he had a card game if Eddie was in the mood to play. He wasn’t forgetting anything and he had enough stuff for him and Eddie to spend the whole night reading if they wanted to.

When the clock read 11:49pm, Richie decided to go; Eddie sure wouldn’t mind if Richie got there a little earlier and it wasn’t like Richie was going to get there fast. The streets were filled with snow and salt, which made Richie’s life a lot harder when he was by bike. He got a warmer sweater, putting it on as he grabbed his bag and opened the window. He climbed through it, feet stomping onto the snow. The cold breeze made him shiver as he closed the window, white puffs of air coming out of his mouth as he breathed.

He walked to his bike, dusting the snow off the seat, and pushed it to the sidewalk. He looked to his house to make sure no one had wakened up before climbing on the bike and starting to pedal towards Eddie's house. On a normal day, Eddie’s house wasn’t too far away, only five minutes from Richie’s, but, in this weather, it seemed like it was half a world away. Richie made his way through the snow with difficulty, some parts so slippery that he almost slipped out of the sidewalk. 

It took him almost ten minutes longer than it usually did and he sighed in relief when he saw Eddie’s house at the end of the street. He could feel the tip of his nose burning from the cold and his cheeks hot from the ride in contrast; his hands were also cold and he had to open and close his fingers a lot of times to stop them from freezing. _I should’ve brought the fucking gloves._

He stepped out of the bike when he was in front of Eddie’s house, pushing it until he could rest it along with Eddie’s. He walked to Eddie’s window, knocking on it two times, stopping for three seconds, and then knocking once again. It wasn’t long before Eddie’s face appeared behind it and he pushed it open. Richie handed him his bag before climbing through it, falling on the floor with a muffled thud when his hands didn’t support him.

Eddie was fast to close the window to stop the wind coming through it and turned to Richie with a raised brow. “Where the fuck are your gloves? You could’ve frozen your hands.”

Richie smiled softly, dusting the snow out of his shoulders and hair. “I’m too hot to freeze, my dear Eds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, throwing himself on his bed. “You’re an idiot. At least you put a sweater on, that’s more than I would’ve expected from you already.”

Richie put his hands on top of his heart, faking a hurt. He opened his mouth to speak, but Eddie cut him, “Beep, beep, Richie.”

“But I didn’t even say anything!”

“And you don’t need to. I know you too fucking well.” Eddie grabbed Richie’s bag from the floor, putting it on his lap.

Richie rolled his eyes as he pulled his sweater off, and kicked his sneakers away before climbing into Eddie’s bed and burying himself under the covers. Eddie handed him the comics and the card game, making a disgusted face at Richie’s snacks.

“You do know these are going to kill you, right, Rich?”

Richie chuckled. “Ooown, you’re worried about me, cutie?”

Eddie sneaked under the covers while shaking his head. He rested his back against the wall and let his legs on top of Richie’s as he grabbed one of the comics from Richie's hand. Richie chuckled at the lack of answer but let it pass. He took one of the comics as well, adjusting his position to get more comfortable to read. He saw Eddie staring at him for a few seconds, making him frown.

“What, Eddie-Spaghetti?”

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to come here? I mean, won’t your parents get angry or worried?”

Richie shrugged, opening the comic. “Nah, I don’t think they even notice, and I’m pretty sure that, if they do, they know I’m here. I’ve been coming here for a few months already, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds, Rich.”

“Sure thing, Eds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering something about Richie being an idiot. Richie chuckled and went back to his comic. He tried to pay attention to what he was reading, he  _ really _ did, but every time Eddie moved and rubbed his legs against Richie’s, goosebumps would come to Richie’s arms and distract him from the comic. Eddie would come more and more closer to Richie, their sides touching slightly, and that distracted the fuck out of Richie; it made his heart start hammering against his chest, made his palms feel all sweaty, and his mouth dry. 

He couldn’t explain why he felt that way or why Eddie was the only one that made him feel that way, but he couldn’t stop staring at Eddie. The way his eyes moved rapidly through the pages, brows showing all of his emotions, lips moving as he read. Eddie’s lips were what caught most of Richie’s attention; the way Eddie would wet them every other page, how he would sometimes bite his lower lip when he was reading something that Richie was sure it was something that made Eddie feel anxious. 

Too caught up in his own mind and thoughts he didn’t even know he had, Richie didn’t notice that Eddie was staring back at him with a frown. “What is it, Rich?”

“Uh?” Richie mumbled stupidly. He shook his head, adjusting his glasses. “Nothing, just realizing how stupid you look when you read.”

Eddie slapped his arm. “Fuck you, dude.”

Richie forced a laugh out, hitting Eddie’s head with the comic. “But you do look stupid, Eds, it’s not my fault.”

Eddie didn’t answer him, just shoved Richie off the bed until he almost fell on the floor. Richie held onto Eddie’s hands, dragging him along. Eddie fell on top of Richie as Richie put one of his hands on the floor to support himself. They stared into each other’s eyes, faces too close for Richie’s liking—or maybe not close enough.

Eddie was the first to move, pulling Richie back into the bed. And that was probably for the best, because Richie was sure he would probably do something stupid if they stared at each other for much longer, like get his head closer to Eddie’s or say something he couldn’t use a joke as an excuse. 

Eddie smiled at him before returning to his reading, not realizing how Richie started to sweat even in the middle of December. Eddie let his head rest on Richie’s lap, comic raised to his eyes level, covering his face.

Richie took a few deep breaths—being careful so Eddie wouldn’t notice—before going back to his own reading, doing his best not to pay attention to how fucking close Eddie was to him or how good it would be to run his fingers through Eddie’s soft hair. Richie sighed.  _ It’s going to be a long fucking night. _


	2. Hiding from Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, peeps, how are you doing in this lovely evening/morning/afternoon? I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and that you enjoy this chapter as well. I just _had to_ write this scene because it's one of my favourites.
> 
> Enjoy!!

The mood in the clubhouse was heavy after Stan’s question; it was a question Richie knew all of them thought about but no one had the guts to ask it. It took them a few minutes before everyone went back to their tasks, and Richie could see that Stan wasn’t convinced with Bill’s answer or Bev telling him that he didn’t need to be so sad—which Richie agreed; that wasn’t something he wanted to think about yet, or ever for that matter.

But everyone seemed to be thinking about it, even though they went back to their tasks; Bev and Ben chatting as Ben nailed something Richie didn’t bother to know, Stan and Bill on one of the corners while Bill tapped something and Stan helped him, and Mike was on the swing with a comic in his hands. Eddie, on the other hand, was practically on top of him, his socked foot touching Richie’s cheek, frowning as he stared at a spot on top of Richie’s head—at least, Richie thought he was.

Richie couldn’t see shit without his glasses, that was lying on the floor from being thrown away by Eddie. Richie placed the comic on top of his chest and let his head rest on the hammock. He adjusted himself slowly, each of his legs on Eddie’s side, slightly bent. Eddie had his other leg bent on one of Richie’s side, touching his hip, and he rested his head against Richie’s thigh, fingers tapping along with the song that was playing.

He stared—blurrily—at Eddie as a distraction, not paying too much attention to the song or on what was happening around him. Richie was too amazed at Eddie whispering the song along with the singer, lips moving in a wonderful and addictive way, and how his fingers tapped Richie’s thigh, getting goosebumps out of Richie.

Richie slightly moved his head so it would rest against Eddie’s leg, giving him a somewhat better view of Eddie—not that he could he see shit anyway but at least he had Eddie’s leg as a pillow. He saw Eddie give him a small smile and Richie returned it. He closed his eyes, letting a sigh come through his mouth as he turned his mind blank. He could still hear the song, Ben and Bev talking happily on one of his sides, Bill and Stan arguing about something, Stan’s tone demonstrating annoyance but fondness at the same time.

It made Richie smile, knowing exactly how Stan felt when he dealt with Bill; Richie knew it was the same way he felt with Eddie. Or how Eddie felt about him, which was more likely. He let his friends’ voices and the song distract him, not focusing on any of them. He could still feel Eddie tapping his fingers on his leg but it was a nice feeling, so he fixated his attention on it.

He dozed off a few times, waking up whenever Stan said something louder to Bill—which was usually saying how he wasn’t doing the thing right—, or Mike’s voice as he talked with Ben and Bev, or Eddie taking the comic from Richie’s chest, moving his leg and waking Richie up. Richie would just close his eyes again and go back to his nap, adjusting his head on Eddie’s leg.

When he woke up completely, Richie didn’t know how much time had passed but it seemed like it was a lot; Stan, Bill and Bev weren’t there anymore, just Ben and Mike playing a card game on the other side of the clubhouse, and Eddie still on top of Richie, eyes glued to the comic he had in his hands. Richie rubbed the sleep off of his eyes, yawning. He rubbed his eyes a few times, waiting for his vision to focus, until he realized that he didn’t have his glasses.

He let his hand fall on his chest, getting Eddie’s attention. He saw Eddie lower the comic and look at him with what seemed a smile. Something hard was pressed against his hand a few seconds later and Richie recognized his glasses. He put them on, blinking a few times as his vision cleared. 

“You’re welcome, four eyes.”

Richie scoffed. “It was the least you could do, Eddie-spaghetti. You were the one who threw my glasses away, remember?”

Eddie shrugged, raising the comic back up. “Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Richie rolled his eyes, poking Eddie’s foot. Eddie let out a yelp, shaking the hammock as he pulled his foot away from Richie. Smiling deviously, Richie grabbed Eddie’s other leg, locking his arm around it, and started tickling his foot. Eddie tried to pull it away, throwing the comic on the floor as he sat, trying to poke Richie’s ribs.

Richie didn’t stop tickling him, laughing as Eddie squirmed on top of him, telling him to quit that shit. Mike and Ben only rolled their eyes at the two, not bothering to say anything and going back to their game. The hammock shook dangerously, threatening to knock the two of them out it. Richie put his legs around Eddie’s waist to get some balance, arm still tightened around Eddie’s leg. Eddie tried to pull his leg from Richie, chuckles coming out of his mouth, threats to kill Richie between them.

After a few minutes and a few almost falls, Richie let go of Eddie, laughing at the annoyed expression Eddie had. Eddie tried to kick him a few times but Richie put his arms up to defend himself. 

“If you keep kicking me, I’m gonna start tickling you again, Eds.”

Eddie raised a brow in defiance. “I would like to see you try.”

Richie smirked, cracking his fingers. “You didn’t just say that.”

It was possible to see in Eddie’s face the moment he regretted his words, but before Richie could get to his foot, Eddie jumped out of the hammock and ran to the other side of the clubhouse. He almost kicked the cards of Ben and Mike’s game on the floor as he hid behind them. Richie laughed, stretching his legs in front of him and relaxing.

“You just lost your place, cutie.”

Richie half-closed his eyes, looking at Eddie. It didn’t take long before Eddie was coming back and throwing himself on top of Richie again. Richie huffed under his weight, faking a broken rib.

“Damn, Eds, you’re gonna kill me.”

“Shut up, Rich. No fucking way am I letting you have the hammock all for yourself. Your ten minutes finished hours ago.”

Richie shrugged. “Your ten minutes ended long ago then. You’ve been here along with me this whole time.”

“Didn’t count it.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I said so.” Eddie smiled proudly, putting his legs on one of Richie’s side.

“You’re a fucking moron, Eds.”

Eddie only shrugged, ignoring Richie and turning to Ben and Mike. They started talking about something Richie wasn’t paying attention—he rarely did, unless he had a chance to make a your mom joke—and Richie just stared at Eddie’s face, a soft smile on his lips. It amazed him how he could spend hours just looking at Eddie, saving all the little things he did when he spoke to other people, how his face would light up when he talked about something he liked.

_ Shit, I look like a fucking sap. What the fuck is happening to me?  _ Richie shook his head, trying to tear his eyes from Eddie, but failing. Stan’s question came back to his mind;  _ Do you guys think we’ll still be friends when we’re older? _ Richie would never admit but it hurt him to think that they may not be. He couldn’t bear to think about being friends with someone that wasn’t the Losers. They were all so important to him and it didn’t seem like anyone could ever be the same to him.

Even Ben, Bev, and Mike, the ones he didn’t know for a long time but that he loved nonetheless. They were his best friends, Bill and Stan were practically his brothers, and Eddie… Well, Eddie was more than all of the others. Richie didn’t even know how to describe how he felt for Eddie. It was more than he ever felt for anyone else. 

Obviously, it wasn’t something he would just go and say, but it was the truth. Deep inside, he knew it was love, a love he would never have for anyone else, but he couldn’t admit it. Even as he stared at Eddie, amazed at him, Richie knew he would never be able to admit it. It wasn’t even something he let himself truly feel; he couldn’t because that was  _ wrong _ .  _ So fucking wrong. _

Richie shook his head again and tried to pay attention to the conversation that the others were having. It wasn’t good for him to let his mind wander so deep into his feelings. He could never do that. Those feelings had to stay away  _ forever _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on [ tumblr ](https://gii-heylittleangel.tumblr.com)


	3. I Missed You But I Can’t Tell You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! How are y'all today? I know, I know, this one is short, real short, but I promise the other three are longer. I hope you like it either way. :)
> 
> And now with a banner!

Richie ran towards his house after Bill talked to him in the arcade. He ran so fast that his legs hurt, burning from the effort, but he couldn’t stop; he had to keep running because Bev was in danger and they had to get her as fast as they could. Richie didn’t even want to think about what could happen to her if they didn’t.

He thanked the fact that his parents weren’t home to see him coming in, knocking stuff out of their places as he made his way to the phone. He dialled Eddie’s number fastly, hands shaking and breath coming out in huffs. The line rang a few times, Richie tapping the floor with his foot anxiously, and then Eddie’s voice.

“Hello?”

Richie’s heart started to beat faster and he blamed his previous running other than anything and he tried to keep his voice steady, “Eds, we need you. Like, _ right fucking now _. It’s Bev, the thing got to her.”

Eddie hesitated for a few seconds before replying, “Okay.” Richie heard him take a deep breath and mutter a _ fuck _, and he could almost see Eddie moving his eyes around the room fastly like he always did when he was nervous, voice shaking when he said, “I’ll meet you there.”

Just before Eddie could hang up, Richie blurted out, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

Richie wanted to tell him how much he missed him, how those days without Eddie were tedious and boring and seemed to stretch forever, and playing Street Fighter all day long didn’t make him feel less sad about not having Eddie there. Richie wanted to open his heart to Eddie like he never had but he couldn’t think about the words to do it, he couldn’t think of anything that could actually express his feelings. “I-I… I, um,” Richie stammered. And even if he could think of something, Richie wasn’t that brave, so he cowarded up. “Hurry up,” he ended up saying, suppressing a heavy sigh.

“I’ll meet you guys on the way.”

Eddie hung up but Richie kept the phone glued to his ear, eyes closed as he breathed in. He shouldn’t be thinking about it, but he couldn’t stop himself. He only let go of the phone when Bill called him, telling him to hurry up.

Richie just hoped that he would get another chance to be true to himself and to Eddie. Maybe one day he would be brave enough.


	4. Why Did You Have to Leave Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with Bev leaving; then it was Ben and now it's Eddie. Richie didn't want to think about his best friends leaving him but there was no stopping now. And he was going to be damned if he let Eddie go without one last sleepover just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! So, this chapter has a bunch of feelings but I really enjoyed writing it. I could write a bunch of fics about the last time they saw each other before one of them had to leave, and I hope I did it justice. There are some good things happening here too 👀 
> 
> Oh, and I advise you to listen to Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow by Freddie Mercury. I love this song and I think it fits _pretty_ well in this chapter.

Richie climbed out of his window, being careful so he wouldn’t make too much noise and risk waking his parents up. It wasn’t that hard; he was used to sneaking out during the night in silence. The air outside the house was hot and humid, making his shirt glue on his chest  and sweat start to drip through the side of his face . It was annoying but he pushed the feeling away, making his way to his bike. 

He gave one last look at his house, waiting to see if any lights were going to be turned on, but there was nothing. The ride to Eddie’s house wasn’t long; nothing was really far away in Derry. The city was quiet and deserted, but Richie knew there was nothing to be afraid of; not anymore. Still, he pushed his legs to their maximum effort, wanting to get to Eddie’s house fast and enjoy the last hours they had before Eddie left for New York for who knows how long.

Entering the street Eddie’s house was, Richie was more careful with making noise. He was used to getting inside Eddie’s house as well, but Ms. K was a lot more strict than his parents were. Richie didn’t even want to think about what would happen if she  found him there  _ again _ . One time was more than enough.

He jumped out of the bike before he got to the house, walking slowly towards it. There were no lights on, not even in Eddie’s room, and that concerned Richie; that would make his life a lot harder if he had to knock on Eddie’s window to wake him up. 

Resting his bike where he always did—and where Eddie used to leave his—, Richie moved carefully through the grass, the leaves too loud in the quiet of the street. He lowered himself when he passed the living room’s window, just in case Ms. K was there. He could hear music coming through the house, really low and soft, and he was sure that was Eddie; he always left the radio on in the nights Richie came so they could talk without his mother hearing them —especially after Ms. K caught Richie there once .

Richie smiled when he got to Eddie’s window, knocking on it weakly twice, stopping for three seconds, and then knocking again —their secret knock . Eddie’s face appeared in less than five seconds,  followed by him  unlocking the window and pushing it open. He smiled at Richie, giving him space for him to climb through it.

Eddie closed the window, locking it again as Richie walked to the bed. “I thought you were asleep,” Richie said as he looked around the room

“Why would I be asleep if I knew you were coming?”

Richie shrugged, throwing himself on Eddie’s bed with ease. “Why the fuck would I know?”

Eddie rolled his eyes at him, walking to his door and locking it. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”

“Yeah, and you love me.” Richie threw a pillow on Eddie, who raised his arms to stop it.

“In your dreams, Trashmouth.”

Eddie threw the pillow on him before throwing himself by Richie’s side. Richie’s heart started to beat slightly faster, hammering against his ribcage when Eddie’s arm touched his. The radio was still on, some New Kids On The Block song playing. They stayed in silence, Eddie curling on Richie’s side like he always did. Richie let Eddie use him as a pillow, his head resting on Richie’s chest while Richie threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

It was all so familiar , so damn much that it physically hurt, and Richie thought the two of them fit together so well. He knew exactly how Eddie liked to sleep and Eddie knew how Richie liked to sleep; their positions would always let both of them comfortable and Eddie was hot enough for Richie not to need a blanket at any time of the year—but he still used it because Eddie was a person that felt  _ very  _ cold. Richie couldn’t understand how a tiny person like Eddie could feel so much cold.

His mind started to wonder, paying attention to the small movements Eddie did; all of them made Richie’s heart beat a little differently and each one of them gave him a different sensation. He couldn’t explain why he felt that way only with Eddie. and he didn’t know if it was good or bad. He knew it hurt more that Eddie was leaving than it did when Bev and Ben left; sure, the two of them leaving hurt him because they were his friends, but Eddie leaving? It felt like Richie’s heart was being torn apart just by thinking about it , so he avoided it for as long as he could .

Richie fought against the tears that started to well up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, especially with Eddie so close to him that he could ask why. He sucked a sharp breath in, trying to keep it low so Eddie wouldn’t hear it. Eddie only adjusted himself on top of Richie, mumbling something that Richie couldn’t make out.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Richie put his arm around Eddie’s waist and rested his chin against Eddie’s head, breathing the smell of Eddie’s shampoo; chamomile. Richie couldn’t help but smile, knowing that he could never smell chamomile and not think about Eddie after getting used to the smell on his friend.  Richie tightened his arm around Eddie’s waist, closing his eyes.

Another song came up on the radio, filling the silence around them. Richie knew the song the moment the first chords started to play, whispering along with Freddy Mercury.

_ You had to kill the conversation _

_ You always had the upper hand _

_ Got caught in love and stepped in sinking sand _

_ You had to go and ruin all our plans _

_ Packed your bags and you're leaving home _

_ Got a one-way ticket and you're all set to go _

_ But we have one more day together, so _

Richie scoffed lightly;  it seemed so ironic that a song like that would play on  _ that specific day _ . It seemed like it was talking exactly about how he felt about Eddie leaving and the tears started to come again.  If Richie believed in destiny and all of that crap, he would say it was it.

_ Love me like there's no tomorrow _

_ Hold me in your arms, tell me you mean it _

_ This is our last goodbye and very soon it will be over _

_ But today just love me like there's no tomorrow _

He heard Eddie’s voice following him as he sang and Eddie’s hold on him seemed to get tighter. He held Eddie closer to him, their faces practically touching now.  The tears were still in Richie’s and he fought against them.

_ I guess we drift alone in separate ways _

_ I don't have all that far to go _

_ God knows I learnt to play the lonely man _

_ I've never felt so low in all my life _

_ We were born to be just losers _

_ So I guess there's a limit on how far we go _

_ But we only have one more day together so _

They chuckled as they sang about how they were born to be just losers. That seemed a lot like them—even more ironic, in Richie’s opinion.

_ Love me like there's no tomorrow _

_ Hold me in your arms, tell me you mean it _

_ This is our last goodbye and very soon it will be over _

_ But today just love me like there's no tomorrow _

Richie almost couldn’t fight the want he had to cry, so he tightened his hold on Eddie, burying his face against Eddie’s neck and fighting against the lump in his throat . Eddie pressed his face against Richie’s, and Richie could’ve sworn that he felt something wet against his cheek  but didn’t say anything .

_ Tomorrow God knows just where I'll be _

_ Tomorrow who knows just what's in store for me _

_ Anything can happen but we only have one more day together, yeah _

_ Just one more day forever, so _

The music started to end, Richie and Eddie’s voice getting lower as they sang the last part of the song. Richie put all of his heart in that last one, using Freddie’s words as his own—words he thought he could never say out loud, didn’t matter how much he wanted; he would never be brave enough.

_ Love me like there's no tomorrow _

_ Hold me in your arms, tell me you mean it _

_ This is our last goodbye and very soon it will be over _

_ But today just love me like there's no tomorrow _

The last chords played and Richie didn’t want to move out of that position ever. He didn’t want to ever let go of Eddie; he didn’t want Eddie to leave and go live his life in New York, somewhere Richie wouldn’t know, and would never be able to see him again.

They had never talked about what would really happen when Eddie left. Richie didn’t actually want to talk about it; he didn’t think he would be able to handle the whole conversation without breaking down and begging Eddie not to leave. Eddie didn’t try to have the conversation either, and Richie had a feeling that Eddie knew he could break down too.

Richie didn’t recognize or paid too much attention to the song that came next. He was too focused on Eddie’s breathing in his ear and how fast Eddie’s heart was beating. Neither of them talked for a while and Richie was starting to think that Eddie had fallen asleep again; he was very relaxed, but then Eddie talked again.

“Do you think I’m going to like New York?”

Richie frowned, raising his head to look into Eddie’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

Eddie shrugged, a blush coming through his neck. He lowered his eyes as he spoke, “I’ve never been anywhere outside of Derry and New York seems like… I don’t know, it sounds like a scary place. It’s a big city and all the diseases I could get there, I mean—”

Richie chuckled lowly, cutting Eddie off. Eddie stared at him with his mouth hanging open. Richie tried to control his giggling but he almost laughed too loud at Eddie’s stare. Eddie put his hand on top of Richie’s mouth to muffle the sound.

“You’re such a dick, Rich.”

Richie smiled, taking Eddie’s hand from his mouth and holding it. “You should be used to it, y’know. There’s a reason why you call me Trashmouth.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, fingers intertwining with Richie’s , eyes still down as he stared at their hands . “Yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from calling you a dick.” He  swallowed hard, wetning his lips after . “But I’m serious. I… I’m afraid of moving out. I mean, I’ll never find someone like you or the other losers. I-I don’t want to lose you guys.”

Richie smiled softly, rubbing his thumb on the back of Eddie’s hand. “You’re not going to lose us. We can always meet each other somewhere, right?”

Richie saw a tear roll down Eddie’s face and he cleaned it with his other hand. Eddie shook his head, sniffing. “Do you really think so?”

“How could I forget you, Eddie-Spaghetti?”

Eddie chuckled. “I hate when you call me that.”

“No problem, Eds.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Cutie?”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

Richie smiled. “Trash the Trashmouth, huh?  I know  you fucking love when I call you cutie.”

Eddie didn’t answer, only smiled at Richie. They stared into each other’s eyes for a while, the smile slowly fading from their lips. Without thinking, Richie started to put his face closer to Eddie’s at the same time as Eddie moved his. Their noses bumped together, their eyes never leaving the other. Richie’s heart beat like crazy and he was afraid that he was gonna pass out ; his hands felt clammy and he started to sweat again . He thought he could feel Eddie’s heartbeat on his chest but he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t just his own. 

They were about to touch their lips when there was a pound on the door, startling both of them. Richie almost fell from the bed from how fast he moved backwards and Eddie’s back touched the wall behind him. Their hands untangled as they stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Eddiebear, it’s time to wake up,” Ms. K’s voice came from the other side of the door, her footsteps following right after.

Richie saw Eddie swallow and clear his throat before answering with a weak voice , “I’ll be right there, ma.”

Eddie stood up as Richie sat on the bed. He looked through the window, the sun starting to come up behind it.  _ Fuck, we really spend almost the whole night practically staring at each other? _ Richie started to put his legs on the floor when another thought came into his mind, almost making him lose his breath.

_ Holy crap, oh fuck, oh shit, oh no. I-I almost kissed Eddie, fuck! _ Richie looked at where Eddie was changing his clothes, his back to Richie. Panic started to course through Richie and he knew his eyes were widening. He almost kissed Eddie and Eddie almost kissed him back.  _ Fuck! _

Richie raised his hand to push his glasses and he noticed his hand was shaking. He quickly lowered and closed it in a fist. Without his permission, Richie’s mind started to wonder how it would feel like to kiss Eddie; would be soft just like his hands felt? Or would it feel hot just like Eddie was? Richie had never kissed anyone before and he had no idea how it would like. Wet, dry? Richie didn’t even know how to kiss.

He raised his eyes to see Eddie staring at him with a shy expression, making Richie shake his head to get rid of those thoughts—thoughts he shouldn’t  even  have in the first place. He noticed that Eddie had something in his hands but he couldn’t see what it was. He raised a brow at Eddie, not needing to form the question.

Eddie walked closer to him , grabbing Richie’s hand, and stretched his own, placing an inhaler on Richie’s hand. Richie frowned, turning it around. “Why are you giving me your inhaler, Eds?”

Eddie shrugged, sitting by Richie’s side. “I don’t know. Just something you can use to remember about me. It’s empty but it’s not like you’re going to use it anyway.”

Richie smiled softly, turning to look at Eddie. “You’re afraid I’ll forget you, cutie?” Richie put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “You know that’s impossible.” Eddie turned to him with a confused expression. “I’m fucking your mom, Eds, I’ll see you all the time.”

Eddie pushed him with an angry expression. “Beep beep, Richie. Beep fucking beep.”

Richie chuckled lowly. “Oh, c’mon, Eds, I had to take that opening, you know that.” Eddie stared at him with an arched eyebrow, arms crossed on his chest. Richie put his arm around his shoulders again, pulling him closer. “But seriously, Eds, I won’t forget you. You’re one of my best friends. You think we’re all just gonna forget each other just because people are moving out?”

Eddie’s eyes filled with tears again. “I don’t know. Maybe. Stan asked once if we thought we were still going to be friends when we were older. Do you?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think we’re gonna stop being friends so suddenly like that.” Richie raised his left hand where the cut they made a few weeks earlier was healing. “We’re always going to have this, right?”

Eddie looked at his own left hand. “That’s true.”

Richie reached into his pocket, grabbing the arcade coin he  always  had with him . He handed it to Eddie. “Take this, then you can also remember about me.  It isn’t like you’re gonna be able to use it in New York anyway. ”

Eddie took the coin from Richie’s hand with a small smile. “Thanks, Rich.”

Richie returned his smile before standing up. “I should go. Your mom will probably come knocking soon again.”

Eddie’s expression changed to sadness again as he stood up. “Yeah, I should go help her put the rest of the things in the car.”

Richie put the inhaler in his pocket before walking closer to Eddie. He opened his arms and Eddie put his around Richie’s. “You’re going to love New York, Eds, I’m sure.”

“I hope you’re right, Rich.”

He rested his head on top of Eddie’s, tightening his hold on him. Eddie buried his face on his chest. They stayed like that for a few seconds before Eddie pulled away. Richie was about to make his way to the window when Eddie pulled his collar and crushed their lips together.

Richie’s eyes widened and he didn’t have a reaction for a few seconds. He only moved when Eddie was starting to pull away, making Richie put his arms around Eddie and pull him closer again. They kissed again and, this time, Richie reacted ; he reacted the fuck out of it .  Eddie’s hands were on his cheeks, Richie’s arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, and they kissed hardly, putting all of their feelings in it; at least, Richie did. He couldn’t describe it but it was one of the best feelings he ever felt and he didn’t think he could ever feel that again . 

His legs felt weak when he pulled away, Eddie’s small smile lightening his whole day. They stepped away and Richie lowered his eyes. “So, huh,” he scratched his neck, “I should go.”

Eddie’s smile grew and he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see you, Rich.”

Richie walked to the window and unlocked it before climbing over. He waved one last time to Eddie before taking his bike and walking away. His smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the day, lips still tingling from Eddie’s kiss , keeping the sadness away for just a little longer .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sooooo_, what did y'all think about that kiss? I had to put it there, at least one kiss between them
> 
> As always, you can find me on [ tumblr](https://gii-heylittleangel.tumblr.com)


	5. How Could I Have Forgotten You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know, I know, this was supposed to have come out yesterday but I had no time _at all_. I hope this one makes up for it and that you enjoy it.

Mike’s phone call got Richie like a punch in the stomach; so hard that it made him throw up. Memories and people he didn’t even remember forgetting about came back with a huge force, knocking him out of his balance. He couldn’t even perform as usual that night; he forgot almost all of his script and he just started saying whatever the fuck came to his mind, which was _ never _ good. 

He hardly ever got nervous on stage but that day was his peak. He felt himself sweating all the time, the spotlight was too bright in his eyes, almost blinding him, his glasses were heavier than usual, and it seemed like everyone in the crowd knew exactly what was going inside his mind. He didn’t even know how the fuck he was able to finish the show or why no one stopped him. He didn’t even remember what he said during it.

Richie didn’t stop to answer any of the questions people had to him; he made his way out of the theatre as fast as he could, ignoring any and everyone that appeared in front of him. He drove back home as fast as he could, probably getting more than a few speeding and red lights tickets. Not that he fucking cared anyway, he just wanted to be in his apartment and drink like he never had before. Anything that could take all of those memories and secrets away from his mind.

He didn’t even wait for the elevator, going straight to the stairs and jumping two at a time until he got to his floor—which was a very fucking bad idea because his apartment was on the freaking thirtieth floor, and Richie wasn’t exactly the fittest person in the world. He got to his floor even more sweated and out of breath, his heart hammering against his ribcage and he thought he could pass out right there.

He dragged himself to his apartment door, hands shaking as he fumbled for the right keys. After a few tries, he managed to unlock the door and enter the apartment. He rested against the closed door and let his knees give up, sliding through the door until he was sitting on the floor. Tears he didn’t even know were there started to fall through his eyes and he sobbed painfully, his whole body shaking with it.

Memories upon memories came to his mind, reminding him of a whole lost childhood; friends he shared everything with, friends he loved more than anyone in the world, and friends he didn’t even remember anymore. He looked through his tears at the scar in his left hand, a scar that he barely remembered how he got but that was there since forever and he knew it meant something important; though he didn’t know what it was.

Names started to come to his mind as well; Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris, Ben Hanscom, and Eddie Kaspbrak. Each name brought a different feeling and different memories, but when Richie thought about Eddie, it was like his heart was being squeezed painfully. So many good memories came to him, of a young boy with big, brown eyes, freckles spattered around his cheeks and nose, a fanny pack with bottles of pills inside of it, announcing where Eddie was at all times, shorts that were too short most of the time. 

Richie couldn’t even believe he had forgotten about Eddie, the boy that was always at Richie’s side; Eddie-spaghetti, Eds, cutie. So many nicknames to annoy the boy with and all that came with a deep meaning for Richie. Eddie was once one of the most important people in Richie’s life, the one he always wanted to have with him, didn’t matter the circumstances, and Richie had forgotten about him. _ How the fuck did I forgot about him? _

Getting up suddenly, Richie ran to the bathroom, throwing up all the whiskey he had in his stomach. It wasn’t much and Richie grunted as he rested his head on his arm. He didn’t know if the pain he was feeling was just from throwing up or if it was his new-old memories coming back that hurt him; he just knew that he wanted it to stop. He wanted all of it to _ just fucking stop. _

He lost track of time as he breathed deeply, eyes closed, shivering because of the cold titles, sobs making their way up his throat. His stomach was still weird, threatening to make him throw up again, even though there was nothing for him to throw up. He groaned as he stood up and went to the sink turning the tap on and throwing some water on his face. He brushed his teeth to get the bitter and acid taste he had from his mouth.

Walking back to his room, Richie’s mind came up with something he had forgotten about; an empty inhaler, given to him almost 27 years ago by Eddie. It was the last time he had seen Eddie and the last thing he got from him. Memories of that night came with a crushing force, reminding him of the boy he used to love. The one he still did, even then, deep inside of him. Though Eddie now is a man, not a boy anymore.

Richie opened his closet, getting the box he kept things from his childhood; there weren’t a lot of things and most of it he didn’t even remember getting. He searched inside of it, fingers brushing on the inhaler. He took it from inside the box, turning it around in his hand. He smiled sadly at the memories that came along with it; his very first kiss, the one that left his lips tingling for the whole day; the sweet, hypochondriac boy that stole Richie’s heart when they first met; a Queen song that was too ironic for the day they listened to it; and the feeling of heartbreak at seeing his first and only love leaving the city and him behind with no perspectives of ever coming back.

Sitting on the floor, Richie rested against the closet, knees pulled up as his arms rested on them. He turned the inhaler around his hand, eyes stinging as new tears started to well up. Richie could barely see through them, his glasses fogging up from the wetness. He clenched the inhaler in his right hand, hard enough to hurt. He started to sob at what once were his stolen memories, now coming back to their places and filling him with a nostalgia that he had never felt before.

↞❆✩❆↠

The hours he passed on that position took their toll in the next day; Richie was sore all over, his back cracked as he straightened it, his neck was practically unmovable, and his ass was practically a square. Richie groaned in pain when he stretched his legs in front of him and tried to roll the tension out of his neck. He hissed at the pull on his tendon, raising a hand to massage it. His other hand was still clutched to the inhaler, the shape of it marked in his palm.

Richie rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, blinking a few times. The room was still dark, so Richie figured not a lot of time passed, possibly a couple of hours only; it was probably the middle of the night. Richie got up, inhaler still clutched to his hand, and took a deep breath. He promised Mike that he would be in Derry the next day but Richie was starting to regret that decision; he wasn’t sure that he wanted to go back and meet everything and everyone he left behind. The friends that he lost, the things he suffered, feelings he buried so deep and never allowed himself to really feel. 

He didn’t want to bury all those things again but he didn’t want to lose his memories either; he had so many good memories from his best friends, from summer days spent by the quarry eating ice cream or playing in the water, winter nights spent in Eddie’s house, huddled under the covers and reading comics. Richie wasn’t ready to lose that again, even with all of the hidden feelings that were coming back along with it. 

So, Richie took another deep breath and looked at the inhaler one last time before he put it on top of his bed. He went through his closet as he grabbed a few clothes and threw them on his bed. It weren’t a lot and he took one of his bags from the top shelf of the closet. He put the clothes without a care inside of it, placing the inhaler cautiously on top of the clothes, and closed the zipper up after. He took a change of clothes and made his way to the bathroom.

He took a quick shower under the hot spray of water, getting rid of some of the tension on his neck. Richie walked around the house as he put his clothes on, grabbing the last things he might need as he walked. He put everything in his bag, throwing it on his shoulder after. He gave one last look around the apartment before grabbing his keys and leaving.

Typing a message in the elevator, he let his manager know that he would take a few days off for personal problems, and that he wouldn’t answer the phone or anything, that he needed to be away for a while. He only had shows in two weeks so he thought there wasn’t a lot of damage in that part, and, if anything came up, his manager could deal with it; Richie didn’t need to be there.

He made his way to his car, throwing the bag on the passenger’s seat as he climbed on the driver’s seat. He turned the engine on and drove off, at the edge of the speed limit the whole way to Derry. Richie barely stopped on the way, only when absolutely necessary. He watched the sunrise as he drove, its light almost blinding in his eyes. Nothing seemed to be able to distract him; not the radio, not the songs, not when he tried to think about other things. Nothing could take the fear he had inside of him as he got closer and closer to Derry, feeling like he was about to drown in the mix of fear and feelings.

Richie was afraid of what he might find there; would all the Losers be there too? Would any of them remember him like he did at the moment? Did any of them forget about their childhood in Derry or was it just him? So many questions and Richie was afraid of all the answers that passed through his mind. But the one he was most afraid of was: would _ Eddie _ remember about him? The kiss they shared before Eddie left to never come back? Would it mean anything if Eddie _ did _ remember about it? Did Richie _ want _ it to mean something?

He had no idea what to expect from the meeting or from Eddie. It wasn’t like he was going to ask Eddie about it; he didn’t when they were kids, why would he do it now? No, Eddie was probably married to some woman, with annoying little kids running around his house. Richie had lost his chance to have anything with Eddie.

_ No, I _ never _ had the chance. It was wrong back then and it’s fucking wrong now. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this shit. _ Richie sighed deeply as he passed by the _ Welcome to Derry _ sign. It fucking sucked to be back home and Richie was regretting his decision _ again _ . Maybe he should’ve had stayed in his apartment; it would’ve been for the best. But he was already there and it wouldn’t hurt to _ just _ see the other Losers, right?

He drove towards the only hotel in the city before going to the restaurant Mike sent the address of. He probably needed to drink something before going there. He was too fucking sober for that shit. 

The parking lot was empty, which wasn’t at all surprising. Why would anyone in their right mind come to Derry as a tourist? No one was _that_ insane. _ Yeah, except me, because here I am, back in this godforsaken town. _

Richie checked himself in and went to his room to leave his bag. He sighed when he threw himself on the bed, trying to gather enough courage to get out of the room. There wasn’t any alcohol in the room, which was bad news to Richie; he could really use some at the moment. It would make everything easier to face.

After a few minutes—or was it an hour?—he finally stood up and left the room. It was hard but he forced himself to do it. He had already driven miles and miles to get here, and he was gonna chicken out _ now _ ? It would be hours wasted. So, he walked back to his car and drove to the restaurant. The town seemed exactly the same way as it did when Richie lived there; there were a few people in the streets, the carnival was up, and there were posts of missing kids around the city. _ Nothing ever changes in this hellhole. _

Richie wished he could say that he faced everything up with courage when he got to the restaurant, but he didn’t. He _ definitely _ didn’t. He stayed inside the car for almost twenty minutes after arriving at the restaurant, arguing with himself if he should go in or not. _ I could go back home and no one would know. I’ll go back to the hotel, grab my bag, and fucking leave. Wasn’t there a reason why I said I would never come back to this shit hole of a town ever again? I don’t own anyone anything and I shouldn’t be here. _

But he would always end giving up on living. He wanted to see his friends again because he fucking missed them. It was 27 years without seeing them and Richie didn’t want to do it again. And then, the whole process would start again; saying he should leave and that he shouldn’t. It was a fucking vicious cycle. 

The thing that made Richie step out of the car was seeing the redhead staring at the restaurant a few feet from his car. He smiled when he thought about who it was: Bev. She would make so much fun of him if she knew how freaking out he was. But she seemed to be freaking out about going in too; she seemed tense and stared at the restaurant as it was going to grow a mouth and teeth and eat her. _ It wouldn’t be the craziest thing to ever happen to us if it did. _

A tall, handsome, fucking _ hot _ man stopped behind her. Richie couldn’t see who he was or what he was speaking, but Bev’s face lightened up when she recognized him. It was that that made Richie got out of the car. He wasn’t the only one there and he wasn't the only one freaking out either. He heard Bev say Ben’s name before she and the guy hug each other.

Richie’s mouth dropped; that was _ Ben _ ? Richie looked at himself. _ Holy shit, how the fuck did he end up so good and I ended up like this? That’s just fucking unfair. _ He buried his hands on his jacket pockets as he walked towards them. Looking at the two, Richie remembered another thing; how much Ben loved Bev and seemed to still do. Richie wondered if he showed that much when he looked at Eddie.

Stopping close to them, Richie said in a flat voice, “Wow. You two look amazing. What the _ fuck _ happened to me?”

The two broke their hug, turning to him with confused faces. Ben was the first to recognize him, lips opening in a small smile. Bev’s smile was bigger when she recognized him and Richie remembered how much he missed her. Richie closed the distance between them, walking first to Ben. 

“Hey, man.” Ben opened his arms as Richie took his hands out of his pocket.

“It’s Richie.”

“Yeah, trashmouth.”

Richie clapped Ben’s back a few times before letting go. He turned to Bev with a soft smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Richie lowered to put his arms around her and hugged her tight. She seemed to hug him tight as well, which made him think he wasn’t the only one that missed their friendship. He didn’t fail to notice the bruises she had on her forearm but decided against saying something at the moment; though he was definitely going to find out who was the fucker who did that to her later.

They walked inside of the restaurant after that, Ben and Bev close to each other as Richie walked slightly behind. A waitress showed them to their table, which was separated from the rest of the restaurant, giving them some privacy. Richie’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest when he saw Eddie; he looked exactly the same, though a little taller and older. But Richie could still see the boy he fell in love with thirty years before.

Richie’s only thought was a whole bunch of _ fucks _ as he felt like a thirteen-year-old boy again. But, being who he was, Richie did the only thing he could; knock on the gong to announce their presence. _ Always with the fucking jokes, huh, Richie? _

“This means that this meeting of the Loser’s club has officially begun.”

It made Bill, Mike, and Eddie turn to face them. Eddie had a small smile when he looked at Richie, making Richie’s heart beat faster than normal.

“Well, look at these guys.” Eddie waved at them.

Bill and Eddie stared weirdly at Ben, making Richie signal who he was. Ben turned to him with an annoyed expression and Richie gave him a smile. As they sat on the table, Richie only one chair away from Eddie, the only thing he could think of was everything he wanted to say to Eddie; everything that he had been keeping inside of him for thirty years, how he wanted to know if Eddie remembered their kiss, the old inhaler. But Richie wasn’t one to say how he truly felt, so he did what he had always done: he joked and pushed his feelings down. 

_ Just a fucking great life _, he thought as Eddie told him about his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, only one more to go, huh? Hope you guys are ready.
> 
> As always, you can find me on [ tumblr ](https://gii-heylittleangel.tumblr.com)


	6. But All I Do is Cry Myself to Sleep, Eddie, Since You’ve Been Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps, how are y'all? Are you reddie (pun intended) for this chapter? There's a lot of hurt and angsty and Richie's suffering, _but_ I hope you like it. 
> 
> The title is from the song _Eddie My Love_.

Richie made his way through the Neibolt Street, his shoulders slumped and eyes burning as he fought the tears off. He didn’t even think he would have more tears to cry, considering the fact that he had never cried as much he did in those last few days in his entire life. He had to force himself to keep walking, his steps getting harder and harder with every inch he got closer to what once was the number twenty-nine.

The house didn’t stand there anymore, broken down to pieces that were then scattered around the ground. Richie was sure that most of the people in town wouldn’t even notice that the house wasn’t standing there anymore, but the Losers would always know what made it crumble, what it took with it, and how much they lost along with it. 

For him, the house represented so much more than he thought it could; it was a place that he once was more than happy to forget about, because there was nothing but bad memories and nightmares, but now? The last thing he wanted at the moment was to forget again. 

He walked past the gate, its hinges screeching when Richie moved it. His last footsteps were dragged before he stopped in front of the crumbles of the house, his breath catching up on his throat. The weight on his shoulders got heavier and Richie almost fell to the ground because of it. He couldn’t look at the house, he just couldn’t. His gaze went to his feet, vision blurred as his eyes watered again, fogging his glasses.

Letting his knees give up and hit the ground, sparks of pain shooting up his thighs, Richie slowly looked up, hands closing in fists. He didn’t even know why he had decided to go back there; there was just something pulling him towards there, untold feelings crushing him, and he felt as if he was about to drown in them. The tears started to spill out of his eyes without his permission and he was sobbing painfully before he could even think about it.

All Richie wanted to do was throw himself under the pieces of the house, look for the only person he ever loved and that he knew was down there; along with Richie’s whole being, because he was nothing but an empty vessel then. This time, though, there wasn’t anyone to stop him, but he knew his efforts would be in vain. There was nothing he could do; not anymore.

He let himself cry quietly for a while, taking his glasses off and burying his face in his hands as he sobbed. The sobs hurt him, as if they were coming from deep in his soul. And maybe they were; Richie had been hiding the truth for so many years, burying his true self under layer upon layer of jokes and fake happiness that, maybe, all of these feelings were actually coming from those hidden parts, hurting him as they went to the surface of him.

When Richie opened his eyes again, staring at the crumbles in front of him, he let out a shaky sigh. He tried to gather enough courage to open up but it was so hard. He had never been that honest with anyone in his entire life and he didn’t even know how to start. His feelings were so hidden inside of him that he was afraid of what could happen when he finally opened the dam.

He inhaled deeply, wiping away his tears. He owned it to Eddie; Richie should be honest at least _ one fucking time _ in his life. Eddie would never know the truth now but Richie still owned it to him; he _ needed _ to be honest.

“Okay, Eds, here goes.” Richie laughed humourlessly. “If you saw me doing this, you would never let me live this down, but I need to do this. I-I, I can’t hide it anymore. I’ve been doing it for too many fucking years already. Guess that’s the reason why I would joke so fucking much, huh? It was easier than dealing with the truth, especially in this hellhole.”

Richie put his hand in the sweatshirt’s pocket—that was Eddie’s once— grabbing the only two things inside of it; an old inhaler and old arcade coin. Richie chuckled melancholy. “This was the last thing you gave to me before you left Derry. And I gave you this coin so you would remember about me. Hell, I can’t believe you kept it all these fucking years. I wonder if you if felt the same thing when you looked at it. Can’t even believe you brought it with you, even though I brought the inhlaer with me.”

He turned it around, running his hand on the inhaler carefully. “I always knew there was something missing after I moved out of here. I could never find out what it was, but it was there, like some fucking phantom ache, and there was never something I could do to stop it; meaningless sex, booze, my fucking shows. I could maybe forget about it for a few hours, but it would come back as soon as I got sober again, or after the show ended, or when the girl left.”

Richie sniffed, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “Do you know why I never got married? Because none of them was you; no one made me happy enough, no one made me forget about that empty space inside of me, and no one was ever able to fill it. After Mike called, I finally found out what was missing: the Losers, especially you. When I started to remember everything, that empty space seemed full again, and I was actually happy. I mean, it sucked to have to come here again, but I was happy for remembering about everyone.”

More tears started to fall through his eyes, wetting the collar of his shirt. Richie’s throat hurt from sobbing and crying, and he felt weak, sick. But, at the same time, he was happy and relieved for being honest. But he also felt like running away and hiding, push back all of those feelings. It was _ wrong _ , he _ couldn't _ feel that way about another man.

_ It’s not fucking wrong, _ Richie thought as he closed his hand in fists. _ It’s 2016, grow the fuck up, Tozier. No one fucking cares about it, not anymore. _

Richie took another deep breath before speaking again, “I lived most of my life in denial about who I am, and I still was until we went back into the house. I didn’t want to admit my feelings but when I got trapped in the deadlights and it showed me all of those things…” Richie trailed off, voice breaking.

Remembering what he saw hurt too much; it was one of the most awful things Richie saw in his entire life. He understood how Bev felt when she got caught in them. Richie didn’t know how she lived with that for most of her life. The things he saw…. 

“I-I, I saw all of you dying when It got me. Everywhere I looked, I saw one of you. I felt you dying on my arms, Eddie, more than once. I don’t know how long it took for you to hit It, but it felt like forever for me. I fucking swear, I saw all of you die millions of times, each of them more horrible than the last one. And I-I…”

Richie’s hand shook when he raised it to clean his tears. He barely slept after the whole thing because those images didn’t leave his mind for one fucking second. Bev stayed with him the first night, trying to calm him enough so he could sleep, saying what she did when it happened to her. Richie appreciated it, he really did, but it made it harder; it reminded him too much of the nights he would spend with Eddie when they were kids, and all Richie wanted to do was cry, which he didn’t want to do with her there.

She and Ben left the next day, followed by Bill. Richie told them he was leaving the next day but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He stayed huddled in his hotel room, going through Eddie’s suitcases and crying, feeling sorry for himself. He only left to go back to the house, all of his and Eddie’s stuff in the car for him to leave as soon as possible or he wouldn’t be able to do it again.

Before he could lose the courage, Richie started speaking again, “When you shook me awake, I still didn’t know if it was real. I hoped it was, _ so fucking much _ , because I couldn’t take seeing you guys dying anymore. I couldn’t even joke about you straddling me.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Years dreaming about it and when it actually happened, we were fighting for our lives, covered in shitty water and blood. But I could’ve kissed you there, Eds, I really could’ve, but then…” Richie’s voice cracked, head falling down. “Then it all happened and I went back to hoping that It was still playing with me, that you were fine in the real world. But it threw you away and things kept happening, and I knew it was real. Well, I denied it, ‘cause that’s kinda of my move, but, deep down, I knew it was real. I couldn’t believe that it was really happening, I just _ couldn’t _, because then I would have to accept that you were gone too. When Bev said that you were and that we needed to get out of there, I was hoping against all odds that she was wrong, I really did.”

A sob came up Richie’s throat, shaking his whole body. It was painful and Richie started crying again, vision blurring as the inhaler and the coin fell to the ground. He continued to sob, words falling out of his mouth without him realizing, “I-I couldn’t leave you there. You hated that place so fucking much; how _ could _ I leave you there? And wh-what if you were okay and needed help to get out of there? I needed to help you. If the others hadn’t dragged me out of there, I would’ve probably died with you. I’m still stopping myself from digging here until I find you, but just because I know it’s hopeless , because I know I won’t be able to find you .” Richie sniffed, head dropping to his chest. “ An-and I’m so, _ so _ sorry I left you there, Eds. I am so fucking sorry. I don’t even have your body to bury you and give you a proper thing. Huh, you would probably make so much fun of me if you heard me saying this.” Richie shook his head softly, chuckling to himself. _ Yeah, Eds would’ve never let me live this down. _

Richie inhaled in a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm himself. It didn’t exactly help but at least he wasn’t sobbing anymore. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, adjusting his glasses on his nose. They still weighted more than normal, annoying Richie becaue he hardly remembered that he was wearing them. He hand’t felt that like ever since he left Derry and no one would pick on him because of them. 

Looking back to the wreckage that the house was, Richie sighed. “You know, if regret could kill, I would be whatever the hell you and Stan are. I regret so many fucking things; lying to myself since _ forever _ , allowing myself to forget about you after I moved out of here , something I had promised myself I would _ never _ do . Not being able to save you when you saved me. You risked your life to save me and I wasn’t able to do the same to you. I let you die, Eddie. The only reason you died was because you fucking saved me. And you know what pisses me off? Is the fact that you were a stupid risk analyst and probably knew the outcome of what you were going to do, and you _ still did it. _ An-and I let you there when I should’ve brought you with us ; you died to save me and I fucking left you there .” The scene replayed in Richie’s mind, breaking his heart _ again _ . It was almost too much. _ No, scratch that; it’s too fucking much. _ “The others didn’t let go of me until we were outside and the house was all down. I know I should be thankful for them, because they also saved my life, I _ fucking know it _ , but I… There’s a part of me that wishes they didn’t. I know it’s selfish, and ungrateful, and all that crap, but I wanted to have stayed with you, even if I was going to die, and I’m sure I would’ve gotten back to you and died along with you if they had let me . And I think they probably know that I lo—, ” Richie cut himself, the word caught in his throat. He sighed. “I think they probably know about the truth. But even so, it hurt me; it hurt listening to them talking about you and it hurt when they hugged me because I couldn’t stop fucking crying. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that before. Not for anyone or anything. And I think this will _ never _ stop hurting. 

“When I got the call from Mike, I thought of coming and then leaving as soon as I could, but now? Now I’m just afraid that, if I do leave Derry, I”ll forget about you again. An-and I-I don’t think I can lose you one more time. I don’t _ want _ to lose you one more fucking time. I’ve lost the love of my life two times already, I don’t wanna lose you again. I know it may be easier, ‘cause then I won’t suffer, but I would rather have this pain and remember you, than just forget again. God, that makes me a fucking sap and it’s all your fault.” Richie chuckled softly despite himself. “I love you, Eddie. I’m so sorry for never telling you, for never being entirely honest with you. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, even when I didn’t know I did. You were so brave but I never wasn’t; I hid the truth from you for all of these years and now I can’t even be honest to you anymore. I love you so fucking much and I’ll continue to love you, for-fucking-ever, I promise.”

Richie cleaned the tears that insisted on falling and grabbed the coin and inhaler from the ground. He took one last deep breath before standing up, dusting the dirt from his jeans. He looked at the house one more time before making his way back to the car. He made one last promise to Eddie and he intented on keeping it; he would always love him and he wouldn’t let himself forget about Eddie ever again, not matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on [ tumblr](https://gii-heylittleangel.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> As always, you can find me on [ tumblr ](https://gii-heylittleangel.tumblr.com)


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